


maybe you’ll find her (can you feel the tension on the wire)

by fruitwhirl



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: F/M, Friendship, High School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 10:39:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5087518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fruitwhirl/pseuds/fruitwhirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a simple progression, of feelings and relationships and things she’s not quite sure of, but Riley’s noticed. Acknowledging the developments between her two best friends turns out to be harder than she thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	maybe you’ll find her (can you feel the tension on the wire)

**Author's Note:**

> hi. so this is my first gmw fic, and gosh dang i almost wasn't able to finish it. please note that i wrote the first half of these before texas premiered, and i didn't want to change what i already had, so some of it is not entirely true to canon. also: i want to expand upon a lot of what i write about here. yeah.  
> also! title is from "on the wire" by air traffic controller. surprising.  
> find me on tumbler at dmigod.tumblr.com

Growing up, most everyone she met who knew her family had at least one thing in common: they were utterly obsessed with the relationship her parents had. She can’t blame them—she’s spent more time with them than she has anyone (aside from Maya, maybe)—but it’s grating how much people will gush over them. While she may have worked out most of her insecurities, she still has to force a smile and a quick bob of the head when someone mentions them.

It doesn’t help that she’s resigned herself to never having a relationship that’s equal to them, ever since she noticed her thing with Lucas fading. Even if there remains a solitary butterfly that sometimes flutters in her stomach whenever he smiles at her, it doesn’t happen as often as it used to. Instead, to see his overwhelming grin she has to glance over her shoulder to her left.

She doesn’t quite know when it started.

There was a time when she thinks that she would be upset by her new awareness of her best friend and her ex-something and whatever is going on with them. But now, the feelings she has towards the subject are more conflicted than anything; she just can’t put her finger on them.

There used to be a nasty feeling that crept up her throat when they were together and they were laughing, when they seemed more like friends than she and Lucas had ever been. She remembers the vivid jealousy that had colored her vision a jade green and clothed her in black and darkness (or as dark as she could get). She remembers how passionate he had seemed about Maya’s happiness—almost as passionate as _she_ gets. She remembers the dismay that filled her insides when she’s only called “pretty” in comparison to her sister’s “beauty”.  She remembers how the boys had all simultaneously agreed that he would be the best choice to be the blonde’s second during their little “duel” and she remembers how disappointed she was when he didn’t follow as she ran.

But as of this moment, she sees them sitting next to each other on the bench, pressed leg to leg, shoulder to shoulder while they cheer her on (even though she knows that they don’t want her to go through with this) with their homemade signs tucked away somewhere.  Farkle and Zay, a few spaces over, both have with their hands clasped in fear for her as, well, as _Yamashita_ comes about. She yells, and it isn’t just in preparation for whatever tumble she’s about to take, but maybe it’s letting go of something else.

She isn’t sure.

* * *

 

She also isn’t sure what to make of the trip they take later, to Texas. The state isn’t what she thought it would be—he doesn’t really live on a ranch in the middle of nowhere, and the most abundant animals around were not horses or cows, but peacocks. His family does own a quiet brown mare, though, as well as an old bull out back that Lucas stays away from. Riley hasn’t seen him really all that scared before, but this thing makes him shake in his boots.

He takes them to the state fair a few hours up north, and when his cousin (who drove them) ditches them to hang out with a few of her friends from Dallas, he and Zay show them around.  Zay points out a few of the tourist traps, but they wind up getting sucked into the huge building with the car show. The icy air conditioning is a relief from the heat—why is it so deadgum hot in the middle of October, anyway? 

They buy coupons from one of the stands that sell them one for fifty cents; Farkle ends up with so many he doesn’t know what to do with them. Until, of course, Zay directs them to the food stalls, and she doesn’t think she’s ever seen Farkle so enthused in her life.

Everything’s fried: fried spaghetti, fried bubblegum, fried lobster, fried cookie dough, fried double-stuffed Oreos, and even deep-fried chocolate brownies. She refrains from it—she doesn’t trust greasy food in general—and instead waits in line for a corn dog that’s supposedly a foot long (it is). Maya orders something that’s so incredibly slick the brunette isn’t entirely sure what kind of meat it is until her friend tells her. Farkle, on the other hand, despite trailing on and on about the adverse health effects that this food must have, returns with so much fried grub Riley is sure that he’s going to puke.

And he does.

They’re on one of those rides that’s _designed_ to make you empty your stomachs from how fast and long it spins. She looks over to him and his face turns green and her eyes go wide and she mouths to Maya that _he’s gonna blow._ The blond just edges further away from, and exchanges a look with Lucas like _is he serious right now_ and he just solemnly nods (or, as solemnly as he can as the ride spins faster and faster).

They leave pretty soon after that.

 

Tombstone.

Tombstone, which she was almost _sure_ was a sheep when she and Maya signed him up for the rodeo right outside of Austin, is not actually a sheep but a man cow. (Which doesn’t sound scary at all, right?) They watch inside the air-conditioned tent as the “best” bull-rider gets thrown from a man cow that isn’t nearly as angry as the one they signed their friend up for.

Riley can’t help but try to fill Lucas’s despondent face with hop; she knows the best parts of him and that’s all she can see and that’s all that she wants to see. She knows he can do it.

Maya freaks out.

Riley doesn’t remember the last time she’d seen her best friend get so distressed—the girl had broken her wrist in the third grade during recess and she didn’t cry, didn’t even shed a tear. But now, her eyes are brimming with wet, and she gives Lucas an ultimatum: drop out or lose her friendship forever.

She can see how upset that’s about to make Lucas, but he can’t just back out now; he has to do it and conquer this beast and has to regain his family’s honor. Maya runs off.

And that’s when Riley knows.

 

The last night the five are there, they’re huddled around a campfire.

It makes them feel older and wiser in the flickering light, the smoke curling around their skin and settling into their hair. Oddly enough, they don’t have any marshmallows (Lucas’s Pappy Joe has this weird aversion to the little powdery fluff-balls), but instead they pass around little chocolate snack cakes they picked up from a nearby convenience store.

They share stories—the Texas-born hear for the first time how the two girls met and the shenanigans they got into, and the three Manhattan natives learn of a love triangle between the two friends and a girl named Vanessa. Riley gets this sense of déjà vu that she can’t place, and when she glances over at her sister, Maya doesn’t seem to really react, looking down at the fire instead.

 She wonders how long this will go on.

 She ends up asking Zay and Farkle if they’d like to go get some ice cream inside, and basically drags them away because she feels like something important needs to be discussed between her two friends (her sister and _brother_ ).

* * *

It’s three months into their freshman year of high school—they’ve left John Quincy Adams behind and are now at Xavier High—and Riley has no idea how they still don’t have a clue. Her blonde best friend never told her what she and Lucas talked about that night last October, because for the next few months even though they were a little odd around each other, Riley’s had no reason to press it, even if she really wants to.

They’re sitting in World History—AP, but honestly, it’s a joke of an Honors course that even Maya takes it—and they’re supposed to be writing down notes from the video playing on the screen, but there’s a flutter of paper that’s being passed between her two friends (he still sits behind Maya, who for some reason still has a place in the front row, next to her).

The teacher’s desk is in the very back corner, their teacher—Mr. Castleton—focused on some game on his phone. To Riley’s surprise, he doesn’t seem to notice the laughs that come from the boy and girl pair every so often.

 Oh well, the brunette just turns back to the movie playing about some Roman general and settles into her seat, twirls her hair around her finger and thinks.

* * *

When they’re sophomores, Riley convinces her best friend to try out for the softball team—she still remembers her killer arm from that game during middle school—and Maya makes varsity. Granted, there isn’t much competition for pitchers, other than a junior who doesn’t really care about the game, and while Maya doesn’t typically start, she still plays often come springtime.

While practice takes up a lot of her time, she still makes room for her to continue her art. When she isn’t on the field, she’s lodged up in the art room. She walks home with Riley when the brunette’s cheerleading and student council times and _her_ painting and practice and even _choir_ times coincide (more often than not, Maya’s up at the school longer than Riley is, working on a piece until the custodian makes her leave).

It’s been quite some time since Riley’s been to her apartment, but when she spends the night there with her and Lucas and Farkle and Zay (the boys will be leaving after dark), they’re sitting around on her bed, and gorgeous, colorful walls that she’s never seen before but should have expected surround them. Maya’s got them painted over and over, layers upon layers of bright pinks and soft yellows, stunning teals and somber grays. There are stories along the walls—from what looks to be a girl crying (Riley doesn’t quite understand art) to a smile that shines as forcefully as the sun to a simple daffodil along the crease of her wallpaper that seems to be in progress still.

Maya’s lying across her patchwork comforter with her head in Lucas’s lap and her legs in Riley’s, and no one really notices the former but the brunette. Lucas makes a light comment about how there’s a new image he noticed in one of the corners, one of the patch of lavender and blush wildflowers that’s growing around the perimeter of the room, and Riley furrows her eyebrows. _He’s been there since she has?_

Riley brushes it off, but she notes how her friend entangles his fingers in her long, blond hair, like it comes natural. Maybe it does.

It’s prom season and while they’re not technically allowed to go, if they’re asked by an upperclassman, sophomores can usually slip in without much fuss.

Riley is asked by one of the older girls in her yearbook class, and later she hears through the grapevine (aka _the yearbook girls_ ) that someone had asked Maya. It’s one of the boys in her art class, one that Riley’s seen talking to her multiple times. James. He's handsome in a rough kind of way, shaggy hair with soft brown eyes, and honestly, even though he's not Riley's type, she knows that he's _definitely_ Maya's.

So that's why she's confused when she asks her about it at the end of the day, when they’re standing by their lockers, when she’s only told that he’s been down. "I'm just not into him. Can’t lead a poor guy on."

Now Riley's eyebrows are raised. "You've never seemed to have a problem doing that before."

Maya frowns, and then shrugs. "I just don't want to go with a guy that I don't like," and even though she knows that Maya’s had her fair share of guys and girls that she hasn’t actually liked before, the finality in her voice stops her from saying anymore.

The following night, when they're studying for their chemistry final at the Matthew's residence, the subject of prom comes up again. Zay makes it clear that he "ain't down for looking like a fool at a dance" (even though he’s actually very talented in ballet—Riley’s pretty sure that no one asked him) and Farkle's not big on that kind of stuff anyway.

Riley turns to Lucas, who’s splayed out on the ground of her bedroom with one of his arms partially resting on Maya's back, and asks if he's maybe going with anyone.

Amused, the blonde looks up at him, eyes big and round and teasing. The boy sighs, and says no one he's wanted has asked him.

Zay chuckles and his next words he speaks slightly under his breath. "It’s not like you’d be able to go anyway, huh?"

Instead of responding, Lucas just throws a pencil at him and offers to get more popcorn. Maya grumbles, asks him to get her more soda. Except he's all the way down the hallway and probably doesn't hear her (or is pretending not to hear her), so she drags herself out of the room, promising to also fulfill the others' drink orders as well.

She's gone for longer than she should be (honestly, all she's gotta do is grab a couple of Coke cans from the fridge), but when Riley gets up to go make sure she's alright, Zay lays a hand on her arm.

"I wouldn't do that. She's fine; trust me."

Riley's about to ask him what he meant when she suddenly hears a shout coming from the den, one that she remembers anytime a boy (read: Lucas) came near her when she was younger. Her dad.

She's bounding out the door before either Zay or Farkle can stop her—and when she gets to the kitchen, nothing really seems that odd or out of place. Aside for the fact that Maya is for some reason sitting on the counter top, cheeks flushed, and Lucas is standing a few feet away, looking down at his feet. Her dad's in between the two, his face tomato red from what she can only assume to be fury.

Lucas says something that she can’t hear; Riley tries to remain from being seen—and watches as her father chases her friend out of the apartment and down the stairs and probably out the lobby.

But he’s back in her bedroom before Maya can even get the chance to spot her.

* * *

It’s one of the first days of summer, their hearts bursting with energy and their psyches’ de-stressed. They’re at  _Topanga’s,_ and they’ve all chosen different ice cream flavors (something about being daring and wanting to change for the better this summer).  Riley’s got her double scoop of Texas pecan—which yes, she’s technically tried before but that was back in the actual state, so the inauthentic non-Blue Bell brand doesn’t count—and the rest of them are trying out the following: Zay, mint; Lucas, strawberry-mango; Farkle, rocky-road; Maya buys a peach-pineapple smoothie, ruining the aesthetic Riley had in mind.

They all find their places around the café—she, Farkle and Zay park their rears in the cool new seventies-style stools that her mom recently bought, and the last two of their group are on the burnt orange chairs a little while away due to the lack of room elsewhere.

“I’m just saying, there’s no reason for a nut to be in ice cream,” Zay’s arguing, a bit of green sticking to his upper lip (Riley goes to rub it off). They’re sitting and chatting about the merits of pecans or walnuts in a dairy concoction, and she’s about to make a really solid point when she hears Maya say “fuck you” and Zay physically turns the brunette around to see her best friend pouring her drink on the head of Riley’s ex-boyfriend and ex-girlfriend isn’t really sure what to do except follow her friend when she stomps off and out the shop.

She catches up with her when they’re halfway down the block, and grabs her by the arm. “What was that?”

Maya just shakes her off, dead-set on going back to, from what she can guess, the Harts’ apartment. “That? _That,_ was absolutely nothing.”

 

From then on, something’s off. It reminds her a little of when they got back from Texas a few years ago.

Whenever they hang out as a group, Maya stays as far away from the blond as she’s able, and he, in turn, seems a little sad every time she avoids his gaze. But when they’re not being completely awkward (and dare she say it, stubborn?) around each other, Maya’s gone, with the excuse that she has a shift at the diner down the street, even though Riley knows her schedule and that she doesn’t. All in all, she isn’t sure what to make of this entire situation.

She tries to ask both of them what’s going on—Maya insists that everything is fine while Lucas just puts on this small smile that doesn’t answer any of her questions. Their bantering is something that Riley is hesitant to admit that she misses, but nevertheless, their conversations seem a bit emptier without the constant teasing remarks being thrown back and forth.

She’s had enough.

So the week before they go back to school (as upperclassmen, _finally_ ), Riley tells the entire group that they’re going camping on the Long Island Sound for a couple days so they can figure this shit out. She packs all their crap into the little red Terios she borrowed from Shawn, and makes Farkle her navigator (he’s the only one who can read a map and she’s the only one other than Lucas who’s learned to drive), and squishes Maya in between the two Texas natives.

Since Shawn doesn’t have an auxiliary cord, and they barely get a signal once they’re on the highway, they’re stuck listening to whatever CDs the gang brought along: Zay’s copy of some Taylor Swift album—“Hey, don’t judge!”—and Maya’s mix that she made a few months ago for times like these.

The drive isn’t long or hard, only a couple of hours, but it’s a little painful. Riley tries to keep the conversation going, bubbling every once in a while with a story about what Auggie did and how Ava is _still_ around and it’s driving her mom crazy, or a musing about a strawberry farm  they pass on the way. But when she looks up into the rearview mirror, she just sees Maya on her phone and Lucas reading one of his worn paper-back books, and Zay looks extremely confused while playing some sort of hand-held game.

It’s nearing sunset—they’re maybe an hour or so out from it, so she stops at a gas station Quik-mart a few miles before the woods, both to fill up and to grab snacks. She sends Farkle to get drinks (he understands that they all don’t need a 32 ounce soda, peeing is already going to be uncomfortable), and hesitantly pushes Maya and Lucas to get food, after giving them vague meal-orders that mostly consisted of dogs (corn or hot) and chips. She throws in a request for chocolate snack cakes as well.

And then once they’re off, she makes Zay wait outside with her while she pump gas into the car—hey, she’s a young woman, and she’s seen those late-night murder mystery specials on TV before.

“So what do you think is going on between them?” Riley asks once she’s gotten it started (she used to be scared, thinking that the liquid just comes out and will spill all over her, and the little anxiety’s stuck with her).

Zay sighs, and leans against the hood of the car. “With them? Anything. It could be like a few years ago, when we got back from Texas and they were all confused about their feelings—”

“What do you mean?” She interrupts, then clarifies. “What do you mean, they _were_ confused?” He gulps. Apparently he wasn’t supposed to tell her anything about this. “Isaiah Babineaux, what the _hell_ are you talking about?”

He opens his mouth, stutters something incoherent, and then when he looks up to meet her insistent glare, he seems like he’s actually going to say something—then, there’s shouting coming from inside the gas station, and Maya and Farkle and Lucas are running out, bags in hand and— _is that ketchup in her hair, and oh my god what the hell is on his face_ —and they’re pushing everyone into the car while an attendant is rushing out, yelling and shaking a fist at them.

Riley pays for the gas and they bolt.

* * *

 

They aren’t  _actually_ camping, but with the money she saved up from working at the café during the summer, Riley is able to rent a cabin on the rocky shore, a five minute drive from the nearest boardwalk. When they get there, she really shouldn’t be surprised with how run-down it is.

It’s a little two bedroom place, with a small bathroom and a tiny kitchen/den duo (a pullout couch included). Really, they’re pretty blessed with how cheap it was and how well everything runs. Sure, it has no AC, but that’s what the Sound (and the fact that they forgot blankets) is for.

They don’t end up unpacking; instead, they eat their “dinner” and drink their soda and water on the beach as the sun falls down in the sky. The traditional blue is now streaks of pink and purple and orange, and it’s utterly gorgeous, Riley thinks. Maya seems to think so too, sticky red strands in her hair obvious as she stares at the horizon. Lucas is looking at something beautiful as well, but the brunette’s pretty sure it’s not the same as what she’s appreciating right now.

Then Farkle speaks up. “You know, I’ve never actually swam in the Atlantic.”

And that’s what starts it.

To probably _everyone’s_ amazement, Maya’s the first to get up, the first to peel off her condiment-covered shirt and drop it in the sand, the first grab the genius by the hand and drag him into the sea. The others follow quickly, shedding their tops (Riley keeps hers on—it’s not particularly nice and she’s still a little modest), and _damn,_ that water’s cold. It’s nearly dusk by now, and the wet around them is ice and Riley’s new jean shorts are really awful feeling when drenched and she kind of wishes she had slipped them off but she really doesn’t care.

Maya’s chest deep in the salt water, trying to pull Zay along with her into the crashing waves. They’re both shivering, but they’re smiling and soon the rest of them make their way further into the surf as well.

And then Maya’s shrieking, because someone— _Lucas_ —lifts her up, grabs her around her waist and throws her over his shoulder. Riley doesn’t pay much attention to that, even though she so desperately wants to figure out what’s happening, but Zay and Farkle have taken different points and are swinging her between them until she moves to sit on Zay’s shoulders.

“Is _that_ how this is going down?” Maya shouts over the soft roar of the ocean, and Riley challenges her to a duel. The blonde scrambles up the boy’s body, perches herself with her legs on either side of his neck, and then, _it’s on._

 Farkle acts as the referee, but soon it’s just a mess of splashing and cursing with no clear winner or loser. Is there even really a winner in chicken-fights? Or even rules?

It doesn’t seem to matter, though, at least to Riley. Zay has awful strategy, so while she’s trying to push her friend off into the water, he’s going the exact opposite direction she is. And that means, of course, that Maya and Lucas should have the upper hand, but they also keep arguing over what they should be doing, playfully bickering like they used to.

Until, of course, they aren’t.

And _that’s_ when the brunette falls off, kicking Zay in the face in the process. She’s pretty sure his nose is bleeding, but she’s head under the water now.

When she comes back up for air, she’s about to grab Maya by the foot because she should be back standing in the water like her again, but she’s still apparently on Lucas’s shoulders. And when she looks, they’re laughing and doing a little victory celebration, completely oblivious to everyone around them. Riley glances over at Farkle, raises her eyebrows and he raises his right back at her. Even Zay’s looking at them, bemused, even maybe a little concerned.

Riley shrugs.

* * *

That night, they’re huddled around a makeshift, if illegal, bonfire they patch together. In their night clothes—this, honestly, is cute pajama pants and a top for Riley, and basically just boxers and t-shirts for everyone else, including Maya—they sit in the same spots they had all those years ago in a completely different state. Zay, Riley and Farkle all are next to each other, leaning against one another as they pass around the little chocolate snack cakes she insisted they buy from the gas station.

            Oddly enough, Maya’s pressed into Lucas’s body, her wet locks lying on his shoulder, and Riley doesn’t know what to make of it. Neither does anyone else, for that matter. And then, Farkle, out of all people, speaks up.

“So what happened with you guys?” He asks, looking pointedly at the two across the flames.

Maya remains silent, while Lucas just furrows his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

Farkle takes a deep breath, “You guys used to hang out all the time and bicker and you’d make fun of him and make him laugh. I’m not trying to insinuate anything but I was so sure you were—” 

Maya cuts him off. “Yeah, well, we weren’t and aren’t and won’t ever be again—”

“ _Again?”_

Riley’s mad. Not because of the fact that the there was a thing to be repeated, but because this is the first time she’s ever even heard of this and that no one had bothered to tell her. Sure, she’d heard rumors spread throughout the school her sophomore year, but she was so sure that if something was going on that _someone_ (Maya, Lucas, even Zay or Farkle) would fill her in. She isn’t sure if it’s because they don’t trust her or if it’s because they don’t think she’d handle the news well or if it’s because they think she doesn’t care or—

“ _Riley_ ,” Lucas is saying her name now, echoed then by Maya.

“Why didn’t you care to tell me?”

Maya sighs. “Nothing actually happened,” and then under her breath, “nothing that matters, anyway” and then Lucas cuts _her_ off.

“Nothing _?_ Nothing that _matters?_ Does none of this matter to you?” His words are obviously directed to Maya, whose bright blue eyes, rimmed by the shadows of her long worn off mascara, flicker dangerously in the firelight.

Riley knows this face, this mannerism that she’s taking on because, truly, Maya doesn’t get angry very often. Confrontational maybe, but not angry. Not irate. Not this.

The thing that most people don’t know, though, is that when Maya is furious, angry, emotional—she gets completely quiet. And that’s what she does now. She presses her lips together, takes in a deep breath, and slowly lets it go.

 _5 4 3 2 1_ 0

just like Topanga taught her.

And then she pushes herself up up up and is gone, out of the frame, before anyone can move or say anything or even realize what’s happening. Of course, in the seconds it takes for the group to figure out where she went, Lucas is already on his way, doing that weird little half jog that athletes do.

Riley moves to stand as well, to go after her Maya, but Farkle just puts his hand on him arm and tries to keep her still, but she’s had it—she doesn’t want her best friend to be hurt any longer, and she wants to know what is making her hurt so she can hurt it (she has a pretty strong idea, obviously, but she doesn’t want to jump to conclusions just yet).

She shakes him off and follows them.

 It’s dark and she’s awful at finding people, but even so, Lucas is _incredibly_ loud, constantly stepping on dried twigs and breathing in short pants. Honestly, where is Maya, and how could she have gotten so far already?

She’s just about to call out for her when up ahead, about twenty feet out, he stops. Nothing around aside from a handful of picnic tables and what appears to be a shed, Riley struggles to understand why he stopped.

Then she sees the very small figure sitting on one of the metal benches, almost completely obscured by the night and a nearby tree. And she watches as he sinks down, illuminated by the moonlight peeking through the overhead canopy.

Really, she’s not able to discern very much. She can’t tell if they’re touching; and there are soft whispers turned angry turned quiet again, but she can’t make out the specific words. And maybe that’s a good thing. Because then she sees the two dark figures, the two shadows in the night, connect near the top and there’s a sinking pit in her stomach because she _knows_ that something like this has been going on for a long time, but she had thought that if she refused to believe it…

And then they’re breaking away, quick, and turning towards the direction Riley is, and then she realized that her gasp had been much, _much_ louder than she had originally intended. An idea of “let’s get out of here” ran through her mind, but she ignored it.

“How long?” The words are not brimmed with anger anymore, but a quiet sadness, she thinks. There’s an ache in her heart, an ache for this chapter of her life that’s now shut firmly right in front of her.

The tall person—Lucas, obviously—is the first to stand up, but he doesn’t seem to have much to say. Then Maya does as well, and slowly moves towards her, hands slightly raised in an attempt of diplomacy. She says something along the lines of “oh, _honey_ ” but that’s not what Riley wants now, now she wants the truth rather than false assurances.

It’s Lucas who speaks.

Lucas, who primarily only reacts to what’s going on around him (by which the degree of intensity varies depending on the situation), speaks before anyone else gets the chance to.

“Five months.” Pause. “Seven, if you include the break over the summer.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” It’s a rehash of a conversation from just a few minutes before, but they never answered her and she _wants to know why._

Maya’s voice is small when she replies. “We just didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Did you think you could keep your—” Riley gestures to them broadly, struggling to find the right word. “—‘relationship’ a secret forever?”

Neither responds.

That’s the thing about secret relationships, she thinks. They don’t stay secret forever, and no matter how good the intentions are in the beginning, it always hurts someone in the end.

In a way, she wishes that they had just come outright and told her. Sure, it would be hard and she would still feel a little heartbroken—he was her first love, and she’s so used to the ideal of her parents (that first is forever) that even though she doesn’t really feel anything for him romantically anymore, it still hurts a small bit somewhere deep in her chest. (In her dungeon of sadness, as Maya calls her own.) But she would eventually get over it. Knowing that her best friend is happy with the boy she used to think she loved would push the process along.

But them keeping this—whatever it is—a secret for so long, her having to figure it out by herself, it hurts. It stings worse than if they had just slapped her in the face with a ping-pong paddle with their picture on it.

Would they have ever told her?

* * *

That night, they sleep in the prearranged sleeping spots: Riley and Maya in one of the tiny rooms, Lucas and Farkle in the other, and Zay found a rather uncomfortable burrow in the ratty blue couch. As they layer themselves in wool blankets to fight off the late-night summer chill, Riley tries to find the words to confront her friend.  Turns out, though, she doesn’t have to.

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you.”

And then Maya doesn’t offer any other justification.

Riley appreciates this.

* * *

 

They start their return home the next day, not because it’s totally awkward (even though it kind of is), but because there’s a sudden thunderstorm that prohibits them from doing really anything fun. The ocean’s too cold to swim in with the rain, and the boardwalk is closed.

Just like on the trip there, Riley drives the whole way back. She’s not really all that tired, but she knows that if she truly felt like she was going to pass out (storms freak her out, and it hit at two in the morning), she knows that Lucas could take over, as he learned to drive from his Pappy Joe.

They stop at a retro diner in one of the small towns, ordering burgers and milkshakes to add to their greasy food intake for the weekend. Zay even cajoles them into buying a half a pie (which they all easily devour), and soon they’re back on the road, tummies full as the sky wets their hair with cool, biting droplets.

As the day winds down, and Riley’s freaking out just a little bit by the fact that she can’t see fifteen feet in front of her, the car is…

_quiet._

She doesn’t know if that’s a good thing, and when she looks over at Zay, who took Farkle’s place as her navigator, he raises his eyebrows and gestures to her rearview mirror. She looks up, and even though it’s just a glance, she can see that under a mess of blankets, her two best friends are holding hands in the back seat.

Zay smiles reassuringly. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Riley considers his words, and then something that resembles a grin (though not necessarily by her standards) works its way onto her face.

“Yeah, I think so, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> also: i have a lot of headcanons. a lot.


End file.
